


Safe

by pushupindrag



Category: Long Exposure (Webcomic)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Physical Abuse, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 12:23:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11275251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pushupindrag/pseuds/pushupindrag
Summary: Jonas is on the reciving end as Dean finally snaps, and there's only one place he thinks to go.Jonas had gone downstairs for a glass of water, phone tucked into the pocket of his sweatpants. Everyone had gone to bed, and Sidney was out at a friends, so he didn’t have to worry about hiding while he was texting Mitch.





	Safe

**Author's Note:**

> Dean physically hurts Jonas in this (more details in the end notes), so please don't read this if it's going to effect you in any way! But... just some casual hurt/comfort because apparently I can't write anything else for these guys at the moment?
> 
> None of the characters are mine they belong to the wonderful webcomic Long Exposure which you can read [here!](http://longexposurecomic.com/)
> 
> Beta'd and Edited by the wonderful Hippomatrix on here and [maaarble on tumblr](http://maaarble.tumblr.com/) Thank you so much for doing this!!!
> 
> Come chat with me about these guys on my tumblr [here](http://postpvnk.tumblr.com/) if you want!

Jonas had gone downstairs for a glass of water, phone tucked into the pocket of his sweatpants. Everyone had gone to bed, and Sidney was out at a friend’s, so he didn’t have to worry about hiding while he was texting Mitch.

  
He’d known he had a smile on his face, and a stupid one at that. But Mitch had been texting him pictures of Buddy in various baby clothes and it was the cutest thing Jonas had ever seen.   
  
He’s too in his own head to see Dean at first, going straight to the cupboard to grab a biscuit and a glass. Although the glass is nearly dropped when he hears one of the table chairs scrape back, sharp and clumsy.   
  
“Fuckin’ Jonas. Why you up?” And Jonas would know that tone anywhere. It haunts his nightmares, his fears, it’s the self deprecating voice in his head that overwhelmed everything else on his bad days. And even some of his good days.   
  
It’s no wonder he starts shaking.   
  
Dean is drunk. There’s a half empty bottle of whiskey in his hand and he’s swaying, seeming to tower over the situation. Jonas can only cower.   
  
“I just wanted a glass of water Dean-” But then his phone buzzes, loud against his leg in the otherwise quiet room. It’s heard easily over how heavy Dean is breathing, and how much Jonas is quaking.   
  
“S’that your phone? Why ar’ya on your phone?”   
  
Jonas can’t answer, all he can do is back away as Dean lurches forward. His pulse is racing, glass clenched tightly in his hand and he’s already started to sweat, nose wrinkling at the sharp smell of alcohol reeking from Dean.   
  
“No reason, just buzzes sometimes-”   
  
“Cut the shit!” It’s a whispered shout, and Dean’s practically hissing with rage Jonas recognises behind his eyes.   
  
“Dean I-”   
  
It comes out of nowhere, punctured by another buzz from his phone. Dean lashes out, a clumsy yet solid punch straight at Jonas’ nose. And it cracks.   
  
Jonas reels, with stars in his eyes and an overwhelming pain in his head. And gosh that’s blood, and he drops his glass, letting it slip through his fingers as he clutches at his face. There should be a smash, that’s all he can think of, but there isn’t one, just a dull thunk and the possibility of the glass cracking, nothing more. His nose is worse.   
  
“Dean-”   
  
The second punch is less solid, connecting with the back of Jonas’ clutched hands and hitting his upper cheekbone.   
  
“Dean I-” He can barely get his words out through how his mouth is slowly filling with blood, and he manages to turn, spitting into the sink, although he doesn’t know how much of the red is bile.   
  
“Get the- the fuck out Jonas-”   
  
And how can Jonas argue with that. He runs then, feeling a last hit to his back, softer than the rest as he scrambles out of Dean’s range.   
  
Upstairs, he stumbles up the stairs first. He’s too focused on grabbing his skateboard and a jacket to even remember his shoes.   
  
He’s surprised he hasn’t woken up the house, and he can hear Dean mumbling to himself in the kitchen, grumbling as Jonas sneaks back down the stairs, trying hard to stifle the oncoming sobs. He’s not even aware of the blood dripping onto his shirt.   
  
There’s only one place he can go right now.   
  
It’s like his feet take him there automatically, and the solid sound of the door shutting behind him as he leaves rings in his ears all the way there.   
  
The pavement and roads are wet, and he can feel the dampness seeping into his socks but he can’t seem to care, not about anything. Not about how his face is aching and how his chest is hurting, about how he can barely see through the tears, about how he knows the way without thinking about it.   
  
All he can think about, is Mitch.   
  
Mitch will help.   
  
It hurts, banging on Mitch’s door, knuckles tense and sore from where his hands have been holding all his tension, unable to unfurl themselves from terrified fists, and the blood still dripping down his face stings his lips where they’re cracked, chapped and dry.   
  
When Mitch answers, surrounded by a soft light and a snarl on his face that transforms into panic, Jonas feels like he’s coming home.   
  
“Mitch.” He’s choking on his words and his breath, and the blood that has gathered thick and coppery on his tongue as Jonas lets himself fall into Mitch’s arms.   
  
“Joey? Joey what the fuck?” Safe. Jonas is safe, surrounded by Mitch, the older boy’s arms strong and protective around him.   
  
“Mitch, Mitch Mitch-” That’s all he can say, he can’t seem to manage anything else as he bloodies Mitch’s shirt.   
  
“Who was it? I’ll fuckin’ kill ‘em Spots I’ll fuckin’ kill them.”   
  
Jonas just shakes his head, and then finds he can’t stop, the shake reaching his whole body.   
  
Mitch just tightens his grip, and Jonas feels him rest his cheek against Jonas’ head. And then he starts rocking Jonas a little, shushing him gently and quietly and Jonas starts sobbing violently.   
  
He’s not used to this level of care, to this quiet acceptance or the lack of judgement for how hard he’s crying or how much he craves this affection. Managing to worm his arms from under his chest, he wraps them back tightly around Mitch and Mitch just tugs Jonas impossibly closer.   
  
“It’s gonna be okay Joey, i’m gonna keep ya’ safe. I’m gonna get the fucker I promise you Joey, I swear.”   
  
Jonas sniffs and then cries out when it causes a sharp pain. Heds been so focused on getting to Mitch’s that he had forgotten all about his nose.   
  
“Mitch I-” Breaking away, all he can do is look up, and he almost starts sobbing again as he sees how Mitch is looking at him.   
  
There’s anger in his eyes, but it’s nothing like Dean’s. This is protective, and it’s not anger directed at him. There’s something soft around the edges. It’s so sincere that Jonas stops breathing for a second until he feels Mitch runs his hands up and down his arms.   
  
“You ain’ even wearin’ any shoes Spots. Shit, come inside. My aunt ain’t in lucky for you-” And then Jonas is being led inside by long fingers curled around his wrist, gently tugging him along.   
  
“She’d be screechin’ right now about the blood-” Mitch stops then, letting Jonas go “What happened Joey?”   
  
And Jonas has to tell him, he can’t lie with how earnestly Mitch is looking at him. “Dean. Dean happened.”   
  
He’s lucky his sobs have started to die down slightly, because it’s hard to breathe just saying that name, never mind through stilted breath.   
  
And then he’s being pulled by his wrist again right into Mitch’s arms, and Mitch holds him close until he stops crying fully. Cooing at him and stroking his hair, muttering under his breath for however long. It seems like forever.   
  
“It’s alright Joey, it’s okay. It’s gonna be okay. You’re here now, shush.” Over and over again, a litany that Jonas can’t help but burn into his brain and brand onto his heart.   
  
He’s never seen Mitch like this before, soft spoken and willing to hold somebody. But he has seen him care, in that odd way of his, about making sure Scratch doesn’t take too many things at once during their sessions, or checking to see if Javier had remembered to take his anxiety meds. And yet here Mitch is, caring about him, in a far more affectionate way than Jonas is used to from anyone, let alone Mitch.   
  
Safe to say it takes him a while to stop crying.   
  
Mitch is still there though, holding him through it. Not asking him any questions, just holding him and rubbing his back and playing with his hair until Jonas stops crying.   
  
“Alright Spots, here’s what we’re gonna do.” Mitch sits him down on a couch, and Jonas gets his first look at his surroundings.   
  
There’s a quilt and a pillow set up on the couch, and Buddy is curled up under a small table in the corner. Everywhere is messy, but he wouldn’t describe it as dirty. There are a couple of closed doors, but the through the one open one Jonas can see a small double bed that’s unmade. That must be Mitch’s aunt’s bedroom.   
  
“I’m gonna get you cleaned up, get you some fluffy socks, and then you’re gonna text your sis to tell ‘er where you are okay?” Despite how tall Mitch is, and how he’s towering over Jonas, Jonas just feels safe, and he knows his eyes are wide and trusting as he stares up at Mitch.   
  
“Okay.” Small, he sounds small and frail and tired, but he can’t care. Not with Mitch so willing to take care of him.   
  
“You take your socks off, i’ll go get a cloth or somethin’”   
  
“Okay.” Jonas leans down to tug at his socks as Mitch bustles about and regrets it instantly. It feels like all the blood that isn’t on his shirt or smeared across his face rushes suddenly to his head and he groans, sitting back up quickly which somehow manages to make it even worse.   
  
“Joey Joey Joey, sit still for fucks sake, just-” Mitch makes a stressed noise. “I’ll take your fuckin’ socks off just gimme a minute I gotta fix your nose first.”   
  
“Okay.” Words are hard to come by. His head hurts and his tongue feels too big for his mouth. His face is smarting in places, aching in others. But he’s safe now, and he grabs the quilt next to him without thinking, pulling it into his lap to bury his hands in the softness of it, kneading at it like a cat.   
  
“Gonna clean ya up, and then patch your nose. Looks a bit broken, I’m not gonna lie to ya.” Mitch is there, kneeling in front of him, old rag in hand and a bowl of water that looks warm.   
  
“Is it gonna hurt?” And gosh Jonas sounds awful, worse than small. He doesn’t sound as if he’s there.   
  
Mitch just smiles, hand rubbing gently at Jonas’ knee. “Yeah it’s gonna hurt like a bitch. Over quick and easy though I promise. I’ve set my nose a dozen times, i’m a fuckin’ pro.” Mitch puffs out his chest, his false arrogance making Jonas smile.   
  
“There’s my Spots, now hold still okay.” And there are Mitch’s hands again, reaching out for Jonas’ face, cupping it between them for a split second, thumbs rubbing over Jonas’ cheeks before they come up to frame his nose. “On the count of three okay?”   
  
Jonas takes a breath, eyes closing as Mitch sweeps his thumbs over his cheeks one last time.   
  
“One.” There’s no two or three, as Mitch’s thumbs come back to his nose and set it with a snap.   
  
Jonas cringes away at the sudden pain and can’t help but cry out, and then Mitch is there, all up in his face. Before Jonas knows what’s happening, Mitch is peppering his face with the most gentlest of kisses, his cheeks his eyelids his forehead, ghosting over the bridge of his nose and Jonas leans into it, eyes welling up with tears from the pain in his nose and the gentleness of Mitch’s actions.   
  
He wants this, has wanted Mitch in his face like this constantly for a while now, wanted to feel the scratch of Mitch’s stupid scraggly half beard thing against his skin and the rasp of his smoke stained lips. He wanted to feel this safe and cared for forever.   
  
And then Mitch is breaking away, terrified look on his face and it’s Jonas’ turn to take action. His face is killing him, and his nose feels horrible, but he grabs Mitch by the front of his blood stained shirt and pulls him closer.   
  
It’s horrible, because his mouth is still filled with blood and his face aches, but he can’t care. He’s kissing Mitch Mueller, and Mitch is just pushing closer and closer. It’s sloppy, Jonas’s mouth is clogged and Mitch is too eager, and neither are them fully know what they’re doing, too overwhelmed for finesse. But then Mitch turns his head a certain way and bumps Jonas’ nose and Jonas pulls away with a hiss.   
  
“Ah fuck Spots ’m sorry-” They’re resting their foreheads together, breathing in sync.   
  
“Don’t be sorry. Don’t be sorry Mitch, I-”   
  
“It’s good Spots? We okay? You okay with this?” Jonas opens his eyes, although he’s not sure when he closed them.   
  
“Yeah, I kissed you, you dork. I kissed you.”   
  
“Yeah you did Spots.” And then Mitch is laughing, a cackle that sounds more relieved than anything else. “Yeah you did.”   
  
“I would love to carry on kissing you,” And Jonas could kiss Mitch for hours he really could, “But I really need to sort myself out.”   
  
“Hey, no.” Mitch leans back, hands trailing down Jonas’s arms to rest on his knees. “I’m gonna take care of ya now Spots aight?” Absentmindedly he seems to be rubbing circles with his thumbs into Jonas’ thighs through the fabric of the quilt.   
  
“Okay.” Jonas doesn’t know what to do, or how to respond. He’s only used to affection from Sid, never mind somebody who isn’t family, or somebody who makes his stomach turn in a good way.   
  
“Okay then, now i’m gonna clean you up, get you a new fuckin’ shirt and then we’re gonna talk.” Mitch is intent as he says it, and it feels like he’s staring right into Jonas’ heart, so Jonas just nods and Mitch grins before his hands go to the bowl of the water.   
  
They’re both quiet as Mitch slowly starts to clean Jonas up, save for the occasional hiss of pain from Jonas and a quick apology from Mitch. The rag isn’t a rag at all, it’s one of Mitch’s t-shirts, so that makes two of his shirts that Jonas had bloodied up. The front of Mitch’s shirt is still stained like Jonas’ own, albeit not as badly, and Jonas can’t help but feel guilty, even though Mitch seemed to think nothing of it as he slowly swipes at Jonas’s face.   
  
The only sound filling the trailer is the soft inhales and exhales of their breathing, no longer stuttered and hard to come by on Jonas’s part. That is until Mitch finishes up with a soft smile, one that has Jonas’ heart racing again.   
  
“All done Joey. Now you wanna change your fuckin’ shirt? Shit’s gross.” And there’s that smirk again, the one that Jonas is more familiar with, and yet there’s still butterflies in his stomach.   
  
“I could say the same about yours.”   
  
“I’ll go grab us some fuckin’ shirts then alright?” On his way to stand up he presses a solid kiss to Jonas’ forehead, and Jonas just leans into it, fully content in a way that he thinks he could get used to.   
  
“Yeah, oh hey Buddy!” Buddy has jumped up into Jonas’ lap, chattering a little to push himself into Mitch’s hands which are hovering around the smaller boy. Jonas reaches out to pet the odd animal, and Buddy chatters louder, pushing into Jonas’s hands instead, wiggling. Which gets a laugh out of Jonas.   
  
He can feel the tension slowly leaving his body with every simple interaction, and it feels nice to have Buddy under his fingers, no matter how many times he accidentally pets a prickly bit instead of a soft bit.   
  
Reaching out, Mitch scratches under Buddy’s chin, letting his and Jonas’ fingers tangle together and Jonas resists the urge to to cling. “You’re lucky he likes ya!”   
  
“Why?” 

 

Mitch smirks, and it’s the dangerous one Jonas is used to.

 

“He fuckin’ bites people he doesn’t like.”   
  
“Well I guess I’m lucky then. What do you do if you don’t like people? They always say pets are like their owners?” Jonas tried for teasing, smiling despite the pain in his face, and even though it falls a bit flat, shaking on some of the words as Mitch laughs.   
  
“I’m nothin’ like Buddy Jonas, I only bite people I do fuckin’ like.” 

  
Jonas blushes as soon as the meaning gets to him, and he averts his gaze from where it had been resting on Mitch’s face to concentrate on Buddy.   
  
“Shut up.”   
  
“Hmm, only if ya make me Spots.” Jonas can hear the eyebrow waggle, so he just continues to pet Buddy, scratching his chin like Mitch had done earlier, his face still burning with an incriminating blush. “Now i’m gonna find some fuckin’ shirts.”   
  
“Okay.”   
  
Petting Buddy is calming in an odd sort of way, especially when the creature flops over onto his back to let Jonas pet his tummy. Jonas doesn’t want to be nosey, so he keeps his eyes trained on Buddy, no matter how much he wants to investigate the quiet grumbling from Mitch or the scrape of drawers and muttered curses.   
  
“You’re a good little thing aren’t you Buddy huh? I wonder if Mitch has any tape for my nose? You’re meant to tape it in place, right?”   
  
Buddy just looks at Jonas as if he’s crazy, but he chatters none the less, just happy to be spoken too.   
  
“Yeah I probably fuckin’ should. Fuck I forgot about that, here.” Jonas looks up just in time to catch the t-shirt that Mitch throws at his face. Mitch himself had changed into another one of those stupid shirts of his, and Jonas tries to read it before the words are covered by Buddy being scooped to Mitch’s chest. “I’ll go look for the fuckin’ first aid kit while you change? Shout me when ya done Spots.”   
  
“Thanks Mitch.” Jonas reaches out, hands shaking as he grips onto Mitch’s wrist.   
  
“No fuckin’ problem Spots.” Mitch just runs a finger over Jonas’s knuckles before pulling away, putting Buddy down before he disappears behind one of the closed doors, grumbling again audibly.   
  
The t-shirt Mitch has given him is soft in the way that indicates it has been in the wash a few too many times, and it’s a little larger than the rest of Mitch’s t-shirts. Jonas spends a few seconds just burying his now clean face in the fabric, careful of his nose and aching eye. It smells like Mitch, even if the t-shirt obviously hasn’t been worn in a while.   
  
It’s only when it dawns on him that sniffing someone’s t-shirt is a bit creepy that Jonas actually strips off his own shirt and puts it on.   
  
Changing shirts is an ordeal, he catches his nose a few times without thinking and yelps every time, and he’s thankful that Mitch doesn’t come running out, because sure he’d kissed the guy but he’s not sure how much he wants Mitch seeing him shirtless.   
  
The clean shirt is a big tight, but it’s nothing Jonas can’t deal with. Once he’s resettled himself under the covers, sitting cross legged so he can tuck himself under the quilt, he calls Mitch back in.   
  
“Hey Mitch? I’m, uh, done?”   
  
One of the doors open and Mitch strolls back in holding a box in his hand and a pair of scissors in the other “Thank fuck, I gotcha some tape. It’s uh?” He looks at the box in his hand “Adhesive tape? I gotta fuckin’ cut it or something?”   
  
“Okay, just to secure my nose right?”   
  
“Yeah, now let’s fuckin’ do this then we can, uh? Talk?” Mitch had stopped just shy of his knees touching Jonas’ and he drops back down so that they’re eye level again.   
  
Jonas hates the nervousness that has crept into Mitch’s voice so he grins, wider than necessary. but the way Mitch’s face lights up is worth the ache. “Sounds good.”   
  
“I’ll getcha socks off too, fuckin’ finally. Your feet must be shit cold.”   
  
“Shit cold?” Jonas would raise his eyebrow if he could at the saying while Mitch starts cutting up a few strips of the bandage after taking Jonas’s socks off one by one.   
  
“Yeah? Like? Ya know, shit? It’s cold as shit? So why not shit cold?”   
  
“Because shit isn’t a unit of measurement?”   
  
“But shit tonne is?”   
  
“I don’t think that is either- OW!” Mitch had slipped, hands coming to slap against Jonas’s face from where he’s been trying to put the strips on Jonas’ nose.   
  
“Oh fuckin’ shit shit shit! I’m sorry Spots, Joey, Jonas i’m so sorry fuck-”   
  
“It’s okay, it’s okay just-” Jonas brings his hands up, gently touching the skin under his nose to make sure he isn’t bleeding again. He’s not, but the throb of pain has gotten worse. “It’s not back out of place right?” And he’s wincing with every word because he’s never been good with pain.   
  
“No, no it’s not. Joey i’m so sorry I didn’t mean to hurt you I-”   
  
“Mitch it’s okay, just... be quiet for a little bit? I’ve got a headache. Could you finish wrapping my nose then come cuddle me? I need cuddles right now?” He’s too tired to filter his question, his head and his face aching beyond belief and he wants Mitch’s arms around him again. Even if the older boy had just inadvertently made the pain worse.   
  
Mitch hadn’t meant to, and that’s all Jonas really cares about.   
  
“Yeah, uh fuck of course okay.” Mitch sounds stunned, speech coming out in stutters.   
  
“Sorry, was that too much? You don’t have to do anything you don’t want-”   
  
“No I want to!” Mitch interrupts with something just shy of a shout “I really fuckin’ want to. I’m just fuckin’ uh? Surprised! Yeah, I’m surprised you want to?”   
  
“I kissed you before? I thought you’d want to hug too? Maybe cuddle a little?”   
  
“So it wasn’t just fuckin’ adrenaline?”   
  
“No.” Jonas just shakes his head “I’ve liked you for a while Mitch. Maybe I did kiss you cause of the adrenaline, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t wanted to.” Mitch is staring at him again in the way that melts Jonas’s heart into a goopy puddle of happiness. “What are you looking me like that for, Mitch Mueller?”   
  
Instead of answering like Jonas initially thinks Mitch will, what with the twitch of his lip that he offers, Mitch leans forward and kisses him.   
  
It’s better this time. Jonas isn’t crying, and he had spat all of the blood from his mouth into his t-shirt when he changed. Mitch has slowed down a little too, and the kiss starts small, simple, lips on lips with no trace of their previous desperation.   
  
Both of them have their heads tilted, careful of Jonas’ nose, but it’s Jonas who deepens the kiss when he feels a hesitant hand on his jaw. It’s good that it’s slow, because Jonas doesn’t know what he’s doing at all. Mitch seems content to leave it there though, a slight slip of tongue every now again but otherwise fairly chaste and Jonas is grateful for that.   
  
“You gonna fix my nose?” Muttering against Mitch’s mouth isn’t bad, and it’s certainly not bad when he can feel Mitch’s smile.   
  
“Fuckin’ yeah. Then we can cuddle and talk and shit.”   
  
“Sounds good, Mitch.” Jonas never wants the name to leave his tongue. Never..   
  
Mitch Mitch Mitch.   
  
The boy who cares about him.   
  
They’re both quiet again as Mitch tapes Jonas’ nose, and neither speak as Mitch climbs under the covers, that is until he starts to rearrange them.   
  
“What are you doing oh my gosh-” Mitch is sitting with his back to one of the arms of the couch, wiggling one of his legs behind Jonas, the other on the floor before he’s tugging at Jonas. “I’m gonna squish you.”   
  
“No you’re fuckin’ not, lean on me c’mon.”   
  
Jonas doesn’t fight it, but he protests “No Mitch, i’m too heavy come on-”   
  
“Joey shut up-”   
  
“You’re gonna regret this. Me leaning on you means i’m gonna squash the air out of your lungs-”   
  
“Fuckin’ sure I will Spots now settle fuck down, we’re gonna have a chat.”   
  
Jonas settles, back to Mitch’s chest, Mitch’s arms coming to wrap around his middle as he places a kiss onto Joey’s temple.   
  
“Plus, it’s always easier to talk about shit when you can’t see the other person ya know?”   
  
And that’s sweet, maybe Jonas could start getting adjusted to this side of Mitch.   
  
“Alright okay, you want me to start anywhere?”   
  
Jonas can feel the tension building in Mitch’s chest, and it’s only more evident when Mitch spits out “What did that fucker do to you, huh?”   
  
“Dean was drunk, punched me twice, called me some shit, I came here.” And the arms around him are tightening, nearly cutting off Jonas’ ability to breathe as Mitch clings to him protectively, starting to shake with anger.   
  
“Mitch it’s okay, it’s fine. I’m here now. I’m okay now-”   
  
“That fucker broke your nose!”   
  
“And you fixed it!” Screw it being easier to talk if you can’t see the person. Jonas turns round, practically kneeling on Mitch’s lap to put his hands on Mitch’s face and look him in the eyes.   
  
“You fixed my nose, Mitch. You looked after me, you made me feel safe just by being here. I’m okay. I promise.” He doesn’t move his hands from where they’re resting on either side of Mitch’s face, thumbs absently going to run along Mitch’s cheekbones.   
  
“I’m okay.”   
  
He doesn’t kiss Mitch, instead he resettles himself, moving his hands down to steady himself on Mitch’s shoulders as he moves. He moves them both so that Mitch is sitting against the couch cushion rather than the arm and Mitch lets him, eyes still angry but body pliant. Then Jonas makes so his legs are on either side of Mitch’s waist and he settles, sitting on Mitch’s lap before wrapping his arms around the older boy, one hand going to the scratchy hair at the nape of Mitch’s neck while he buries his chin into Mitch’s shoulder.   
  
“I promise I’m okay. Now just, calm down, okay? I don’t need you to do anything.”   
  
He carries on muttering until Mitch slowly puts his arms around Jonas’ waist, settling his forehead onto Jonas’ shoulder as he slowly starts to breath, and Jonas can count to ten for each inhale and exhale.   
  
“That’s okay Mitch. We’re okay.”   
  
“Yeah?”   
  
“Yeah, unless you’re losing feeling in your legs yet cause i’m heavy.”   
  
“Shut the fuck up Spots, you’re fuckin’ perfect.”   
  
That throws Jonas completely and he sits back, hands going back to Mitch’s shoulders.   
  
“What?”   
  
“You’re perfect?” Mitch looks as though he doesn’t understand the question, hands going to link at the base of Jonas’ spine.   
  
“I don’t understand?”   
  
“You don’t understand that you’re fuckin’ perfect? Why? You’re great, Joey!”   
  
Mitch isn’t lying, and that throws Jonas even further.   
  
“I don’t?”   
  
“Fuck, Joey, uh?” Mitch panics, Jonas can see it in his eyes as he sees how confused and uncomfortable Jonas had gotten. Jonas isn’t used to this at all, and it’s making him squirm.   
  
“Nevermind? Kiss me? Different fuckin’ question uh? What are we? Yeah? Better question right fuckin’ there.”   
  
“I don’t know that either, what would you want to be? Cause we like each other right? I’m not just imaging all of this?”   
  
“No Joey, at least I hope you’re not. Dating? We could date?” Mitch pulls Joey closer a little with his clasped hands “Would you wanna do that Spots?”   
  
“Yeah.” Jonas is nodding, harder than he needs to and has to stop because of the ache in his face but he’s smiling “Yeah I would.”   
  
They kiss again then, over and over, breaking away to laugh every now and then or trace one another’s faces with fingertips or kisses, until Jonas yawns into Mitch’s mouth. He’s exhausted from everything that had happened.   
  
“Come on Spots, we gotta sleep. Gerrof a sec.”   
  
Jonas does, hand coming to cover his mouth as he yawns again, feet unsteady underneath him as Mitch starts to rearrange the forgotten quilt and pillows before lying down, looking a little cramped on the small couch as he presses himself against the back, arm open and holding the quilt up.   
  
“C’mon Joey, we can talk more in the morning.”   
  
It’s probably embarrassing how quickly Jonas goes to Mitch, snuggling right underneath his arm, cuddling close to Mitch’s chest, arm going to clutch at Mitch’s waist as Mitch settles his own arm, safe and protecting around Jonas.   
  
Jonas falls asleep then, too tired to toss and turn, feeling safe and wanted. Mitch’s arms are around him, and the lingering feeling of Mitch kissing his forehead follows him into his dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> Dean punches Jonas twice, breaking his nose and giving him a black eye. Theres also talk of blood throughout the entire thing.


End file.
